


Liar

by ohrabbitheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:10:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohrabbitheart/pseuds/ohrabbitheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot of what was going on in Emori's head during that "beach from hell" scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liar

For once, it is not so lonely in the desert. Soft voices drift over the shifting sands and bounce off dunes as the group carries on their conversation. In between catching certain phrases, the familiar squeaking of the wheels on my cart reaches my ears. The group is largely made of men with odd weapons I've only seen a handful of times in my life, but their weapons have only been pointed at me once. They are a soft group. A trusting, faithful group. It's almost with a heavy heart that I acknowledge they carry too much hope. Almost.

"So, I gotta ask. What made you ditch your home and risk your life to cross the beach from hell?"

The boy beside me, John Murphy breaks the silence between us. I keep my eyes focused ahead of me even when I can feel his gaze brush over me for the hundredth time today. "It doesn't matter."

"C'mon. Take my mind off all the fun we're having." His humor is sarcastic. Dark. Fitting.

I oblige him, my focus never wavering from the miles of dunes we must cross to reach the City of Light. "Wasn't my decision to leave."

"Kicked out? K, now I'm interested. What'd you do?"  


"If I told you", I find him in the sunlight, the brightness illuminating his hawk-like features. He is fair of face, young, though his eyes tell the story of a man burdened by pain and suffering. It's enough to turn my gaze. I cannot afford any camaraderie. "You would not look at me the same."

"Maybe. Then again, I might surprise you." And his eyes are on me again, his voice matching the turmoil within.  


Against my better judgement, I meet him with the same intensity and my curiosity piques. "What about you? How did you end up in the Dead Zone?"

"I could tell you the gory details, but since you're one of the few people on this planet who doesn't hate me at the moment, I don't think I wanna blow it."

"Now I'm interested." I repeat his former words which elicits a smile that I readily reciprocate. For a moment, the darkness creeps out of his eyes, though sadness remains. He is a remarkable creature, this John Murphy.

"Okay. You really wanna know? I killed two people. Tried to kill two more. I had my reasons, but nobody cared. I'm the bad guy." He says it matter-of-factly, as if this life and living in it can be so black and white. I do not pity him, though a sadness does overcome me. How have the Sky People raised their own? How can anyone believe things to be so cut and dry? "Told ya I'd blow it."

His words catch me off guard, snapping me out of my reverie. I have fallen a step behind him, and he strides away from what he expects is another enemy. Before I can talk myself out of it I'm reaching out to stop him, the back of my hand softly smacking into his arm. He stops beside me and follows my gaze as we wait for the final two stragglers of the group to pass us. It takes all of my strength to get to this point. I have never dreamed of sharing my shame with another, let alone a stranger. Perhaps we are kindred spirits. Perhaps I enjoy the way he looks upon me, like I am the sun burning mercilessly across this desert. Something dangerous but nurturing as well.

I breathe deeply, my eyes focusing on the area around us as I slide the linen from my left hand. A mangled, grotesque limb appears, the digits elongated and fused together to create a great 'V' with two useless nubs of skin growing on the side. I have seen it. I know it. It is my shame. And so my eyes fixate on John to gauge his reaction, and I am not the least bit surprised when I find his mouth open and his eyes roving over the monstrous claw.

"My people saw me as a stain on the bloodline. Something to erase." His gaze falters as I speak, and he breaks eye contact with me in a desperate search for his feet. I nod, fully expecting the reception. My face says I am not surprised or hurt by his reaction, though in the back of my mind I am far more upset than I want to admit to myself. He is a mark, anyway. A means to an end. We all have to survive in this world, and you take what you can in the Dead Zone, no matter how much you might find yourself connecting with someone. Survival is all that matters. And so I walk away with my head held high, even as I re-position the frayed linen over my disfigurement.

But he surprises me. Just as he said he might. "Screw 'em", he says, and I can't help but turn to find him again. "I wouldn't cover it up, I think it's pretty badass."

And even though I give him my back a final time, joy threatens to reveal itself in my quavering voice as it spreads a quick smile across my lips. "Liar."


End file.
